


A Fine Bride

by Daerwyn



Series: A Collection of Drabbles by Helmaninquiel [4]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Courtship, F/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5089118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Faramir wanting to marry you, but Denethor says no and Boromir has to stand up for the two of you since he wants his brother to be happy. </p><p>Imagine Boromir comforting you when you get scared, and telling you sweet words of courage to keep your hopes up. </p><p>Imagine Boromir defending you when his father is being ridiculous or mean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fine Bride

Your pulse was beating wildly in your chest as you attempted to find a sane train of thought that didn’t end in you being committed for treason, or thrown from the kingdom he had no true control over. But that was silly. There was nothing wrong with what you intended to do. There was nothing wrong with falling in love with someone and wishing to be with them forever.

The only issue was who it was. Or rather, who their father was. Denethor.

If the man had done great things in the time you had known him, perhaps your feelings would be because you did not feel worthy of marrying his son. But the man had treated your love like an unwilling house-guest. And his other son like gold. And though they tried to make their father see reason, no one listened to their son like Denethor did Boromir.

And so Faramir announcing his intention to wed you – he had already been granted your father’s blessing (and rather easily, you were sure to add), but Denethor was another matter. It was like trying to get a stone giant to grow flowers.

The man had no patience, nor any love.

“Lady Y/N,” a voice said quietly from behind you. You turned to see the two brothers approaching, Faramir being the one to have spoken. And your worries fluttered away as you turned the frown into a wide smile. “You look even fairer than last we met.”

“Which would have been breakfast, nearly two hours ago,” you returned warmly. “If I look any fairer, which I sincerely doubt, then it is because I’m not falling asleep in my porridge.” Faramir chuckled, and as the brother stopped in front of you, Faramir held out a hand for you, which you took, flushing as he kissed your knuckles. And when he lowered your hand, his thumb rubbed over the ring that rested on your finger. The promise ring for your betrothal.

A pledge to one another to be married, no matter what obstacles you were to face. “You still look radiant, whatever the reason.”

“And you, my Captain, look absolutely nervous,” you giggled. Indeed, Faramir did look like a cart wreck. He was slightly clammy, and his eyes held the worry lines he tried to hide with a smile. You glanced towards Boromir. “I suppose you’re coming along to make sure my intended does not faint?”

“Among other things.”

“He’s expecting us soon,” Faramir spoke. “We had best not be late.” No, it was wise not to. Faramir took your hand. “It will be fine.” But it sounded as though he was trying to convince himself, and not doing well.

The doors to the throne room in Minas Tirith seemed to approach all too quickly. And then you were thrown into the white hall, the dark clothed man not seemingly noticing any of your arrivals. Boromir left you and Faramir’s side, clapping his brother on the back in support, before you were left beside your love. Nothing could defeat what you felt. It was real. And it was unbreakable.

“Father,” Faramir began. Denethor looked up immediately, but you heard the scowl before Faramir continued. “Good morning.”

“What is it you want, boy?” Denethor snapped. “Can’t you see I’m busy.”

“I wished to speak to you about something important.” He had obviously rehearsed what he was to be saying, because he spoke with the most confidence you had seen him with in front of his father in ages. Faramir’s hand gripped yours tightly as you swallowed. “I wish to declare my intention to marry.”

Denethor’s shrill, hollow laugh filled the room. “Marry? You? Leave me or find something true to tell me.”

“It is true,” Faramir stated. He held your hand up slightly, causing you to step forward just a bit, drawing Denethor’s attention to you. You had made sure to wear your finest dress, braid your hair just right, and even pink your cheeks to give you a rosy look. But none of it seemed to appease Denethor, as he looked you over with a scowl before turning to Faramir. “Y/N and I have announced our betrothal, we just wish to have your blessing before we are married.”

“Get out.”

There was silence as no one moved at the hushed command.

“Get. Out!” You jumped slightly as Denethor rose out of his seat and Boromir was immediately trying to intercede.

“Father, please just listen to them-”

“I said, get out, girl,” he snarled at you, pointing to you. “You will not marry any child of mine, even if it is this one. I’m doing you a favor, you wouldn’t want to marry him. A coward-”

“Father-” Boromir insisted. “Perhaps if you got to know the girl over lunch-”

“She will leave right now, or I will throw her from the wall and she will never return.” You felt your throat go dry, and you glanced to Faramir uncertainly, but he gave a nod in acquiescence, and he kissed your hand again.

“I will take her outside, brother,” Boromir said quietly, and you felt the brother’s hand on your shoulder. You didn’t feel much more from surprise. You had known it was far fetched that Denethor would agree, but throwing you from the wall.. well, that was-”

“I will stay and talk to father,” Faramir said simply.

You could only nod and when you left the room, the sound of the doors shutting sent you leaning against the wall, moaning in despair. “Perhaps we should have just eloped, and then it would have been too late-”

“Don’t fret, yet,” Boromir said quietly. “Everything will be alright.”

But as you heard the shouting inside, too indistinguishable to make out what was being said, you knew that Faramir was being called all things unimaginable. “I am terrified that he will banish me to ensure we are not together. It is all I have thought about since we made this meeting date.”

Boromir frowned. “I would not allow that to happen.”

“Perhaps,” you said quietly. “But there is little one or two men can do against an entire city at your father’s employ.”

“You need not be scared of these things. I will talk to father as well, to make sure he does not do something so harsh. But Faramir has prepared for this. He knew father would not take this well. Father wishes for me to marry before Faramir does. But with me leaving in the coming months to the Council of Elrond, I fear that hope will not come soon.”

“When you return,” you said quietly. His large hand touched your arm, a small smile leaving him.

“Of course. But you need not worry about my father. Faramir can handle his own. He will have to with me gone.”

“He’s only just been named Captain today to prepare for your absence,” you returned, not in the least bit eased. “But even you know that nothing matters to Faramir more than his father’s approval. It is all he has ever wanted.” Boromir sighed. “I do not want to cause an even greater wedge. If he and I are to remain betrothed until your father becomes too old to stop us from marrying, then I will wait. But I know that him disapproving of our union will burden Faramir every day of that wait.”

Suddenly the shouting seized. “Perhaps it is best if you wait here, while I speak to father,” Boromir said suddenly. “Everything will be fine.” Yes. Waiting sounded much better than being thrown off of the wall of Minas Tirith. It was a great ways down, and an even harder surface to land on. As the doors burst open, Faramir sppeared, and Boromir walked towards him, and they were speaking lowly before Boromir went inside. The doors were quickly shut by the attending servants.

You carefully approached Faramir, seeing that his face had angry red splotches over his cheeks, and he looked upset. “What happened?” you asked quietly, and as soon as your hand touched his arm, he seemed to deflate.

“Father has forbidden the union,” Faramir said quietly. “If we get married without his consent, he will send you away to Rohan for the rest of your days.” Your mouth opened slightly in shock. “In the mean time, you will not be allowed to be seen near me, or it will be treason.” And treason meant- Your breath left you and you stared up at Faramir.

“But… surely this will blow over. To ban us from ever seeing each other?”

“I will not risk you being accused of treason, Y/N,” Faramir said quietly. “He said he would only approve of the union after Boromir marries. Otherwise, he will have none of it.”

“I wish he would realize that you are just as much of his son as Boromir is.” You stood on your toes, kissing him lightly. Faramir reciprocated by wrapping his arms around you, tugging him close to him and resting his chin atop your head. “Faramir?”

“He will never take you from me. If I must love you from afar, then I must.”

“Faramir-” Unwillingly, tears prickled your eyes. You did not know if you could live your life seeing him every day but not even speaking for fear of someone thinking that you two were conspiring behind the back of the steward.

“If I must love you in secret, if I must pine away, then I will."

“There is still hope,” you whispered into his chest. You pulled away to look up to his eyes. “There is always hope.”

He gave you a small smile. “I forget that no matter how much you worry, you’re always optimistic.”

“No, I just cheer you up,” you returned with a giggle.

When Boromir strode through the doors, he did not look pleased, nor did he look grim.

“He has agreed to lunch,” Boromir spoke quietly. “To get to know her, before he made any decisions. It is not much, but it was the most I could do.”

A chance, at least. “Thank you, brother,” Faramir spoke earnestly. “Truly, thank you.”

“I wish for nothing than to see my brother happy.” Faramir hugged him, clapping him on the back, before he turned to you, his smile nearly blinding. “We have prepared for this possibility.”

“I know, Faramir. I have not forgotten.” He seemed a thousand pounds lighter, though. “It will all be fine.” It had to be. If not, then this lunch was just a way to draw out the inevitable. Something you wouldn’t put past Denethor.

When lunch was ready, however, you felt an overwhelming nervousness that not even Faramir could put away. And though you sat beside Faramir, closest to Denethor, Boromir was across from you if you ever faltered. You were light, you were bubbly, and you did your best to keep things from turning sour – which Denethor most certainly tried to do.

Nor was he very … well, pleasant to watch eat. More than once you lost your appetite. At least the two brothers had table manners. But when the servants took away the plates, there was silence, just the quiet thank you you gave to the man that took your own plate.

“And what do you think, father?” Boromir began carefully. You didn’t mind that they spoke of you like you weren’t in the room. With Denethor, that was probably best.

“I think she’s well enough,” he spoke after a moment. “The wedding will be next month.” You couldn’t help the relief you felt. A good end.

“Your blessing means the world, Lord Denethor,” you spoke quietly, but earnestly. Faramir took your hand, and his joy was as bright as the sun.

“I will expect the seamstresses to start Boromir’s robes, and get your gown for you-”

You faltered. But it was Boromir that spoke. “I do not need robes. I will be wearing my formal robes to their wedding-”

Denethor laughed. “No, my boy, your wedding. You will be marrying the girl.”

“What?” you breathed, staring at Denethor in incredulity. You glanced to Faramir, to see that he, too, looked shocked.

“I’m not marrying her. She is a sister to me. It is Faramir that wishes to marry her, and I have given them my support for this wedding,” Boromir cried, standing.

“And she will either marry you or be sent to Edoras.” You couldn’t breathe. Your eyes darted between Faramir and Boromir, as they met each other’s gaze.

“Give me a day to think on it,” Boromir said finally, but his gaze did not falter from Faramir’s own. “But I would like it known that this is not my wish. I want nothing more than for my brother to be happy.”

“And I will not have him marrying someone he does not deserve.” And while it was a compliment to you, it was not to Faramir. Your love stood suddenly.

“I will be in my chambers should someone need me.” And he left without a further word or glance.

Boromir sighed as Faramir disappeared out of the hall. But before you could rise, Boromir gave a small shake of his head to you. “Father, this is ridiculous. I do not wish to marry her and make my own brother feud with me for stealing his bride.”

“Consider it a gift to you. A pretty girl to keep you happy.”

“She’s not some girl to be used-” Boromir stopped himself, biting back the words. “I will not let you ruin for Faramir.”

”Faramir should have known better than to think he could marry before you yourself were married.” Denethor reached for his wine glass. “There is little that can be done to change my mind.”

“But there is something, then,” Boromir spoke quickly. “Something that will change your mind.”

“Perhaps,” Denethor spoke.

“Then tell me and I will make sure that it is done,” Boromir insisted.

“You will have your own brother banished?” Denethor questioned. You frowned, and felt yourself rising.

“Do you hate your son that much, that you will send him off to a certain death – with these Orcs constantly streaming away,” you found yourself demanding, “that you care nothing for him? After a lifetime of your treatment to him, do you not think Faramir should be happy? Do you not think his mother would want him happy?”

Denethor set the glass down carefully that was in his hand, and you swallowed at the careful precision with which he did it. Perhaps you had spoken too boldly. “His mother? His mother died bringing him into this world. I think she would quite agree that he should have died instead of her.”

You were ignited with anger. “No, I think his mother loved him so much bringing him into this world, that she sacrificed herself so that he would live. And you have dishonored her memory by choosing to hate him.” You threw your napkin onto the table, moving towards the end of the table, to leave. “He does not deserve any of this treatment-”

“You dare speak to me-”

“A steward,” you returned sharply. “A servant to the King of Gondor. Acting Lord, but not a Lord. I will pack my things to leave for Rohan. Because I cannot stand to see any of this… this treatment. You strive to make your youngest son’s life hell.” A hand grabbed your arm, tighter than you had anticipated and you winced, turning to see Denethor glaring at you. “You’re a very pitiful man, and one that I hope does not have to see the death of anyone close to you in this kingdom, because it will drive you into further madness.”

He curled his lip. “And you? Who are you?”

“A cousin to the King of Gondor, should he ever return,” you spoke sharply. “A distant relative of Isildur and one that is in line for the throne, should the banished king ever return. And someone that loves your son with her whole heart, which is more than I can say you love him.” You jerked out of his grasp. “Punishing him by having me marry Boromir, who is like a brother to me, will not make you any more powerful. It will just show the city how spiteful you truly are. My father has given his blessing, and all we sought was yours. It was all Faramir wanted, was for your approval. And something you could not even grin and bear.”

“Father, please, Faramir and Y/N are an excellent pair,” Boromir insisted. “And anyone with eyes would see how smitten they are with each other. I cannot marry her, because I cannot love her how Faramir does.”

“She will marry you or she will ride for Rohan on her own.”

“Then you lose me as your son,” Boromir stated. You glanced to the eldest brother in surprise, but he was firm. “If you forbid their union, then I will leave Minas Tirith and never return.”

Denethor laughed coldly. “No, you won’t. You would never betray me.”

“I will not let you do this. Either she marries Faramir and it is a welcomed union, or I ride with her to Rohan with Faramir, as I’m certain he will decide to do. And you lose the both of us.”

He strode towards you. “Come,” Boromir said. “We will find Faramir, and we leave at sunset.”

You wondered if he was truly serious. There was no way to leave at sunset. You hadn’t a horse, and there were duties to the kingdom the brothers had, but he did not waver. And you nodded, swallowing. You could not even imagine saying goodbye to your father. As you walked with Boromir towards the door, he murmured. “Let it stew for a minute. By the time we leave, he will have changed his mind.”

And sure enough, not even two steps out of the door, Boromir’s steps unfaltering, Denethor cried out, “Wait!” You closed your eyes, relieved. “I will not let you leave this kingdom.” Oh, thank God. “They will marry. But I will neither approve nor disapprove of the union. They will do it without my support, or it will not happen at all.”

Oh, goodness. That was much better than she had hoped. They needn’t the money. Her father had enough in her dowry to pay for the minister. And she already had the fabric for her dress to be sewn. She turned, seeing Denethor looking desperate. Which seemed to be Boromir’s intention – Boromir’s plan all along.

“And no one will be banished or imprisoned,” Boromir returned strongly.

“No one,” Denethor growled. “Does that suit you?”

It suited her very much, but he was not addressing her. Boromir simply gave a nod. “I will tell Faramir the good news, then.” It was only when you two had gotten to the hall towards Faramir’s chambers that Boromir shot you a smile. “I told you, everything was going to be alright.”

“You planned that.”

“There’s nothing he fears more than losing me as his son. And I knew it would work. I just had to look like I meant it.” You giggled, before you hugged your new brother-in-law tightly.

“Thank you, brother. I truly mean it.”

“Remind me to never anger you.”

“I’ll remember.” As you knocked lightly on Faramir’s door, you let the hope fill you. A chance at last.

“You will make a fine bride, and a fine sister.”

“And you an excellent brother.” Though words would not express how much his effort truly meant. A brother that put his own brother above himself. Someone you knew Faramir truly hoped to be like – not just because of Denethor, but because Boromir had always been a figure he had admired. And he was a brother that you knew would do well while he was away.


End file.
